


I Need Somebody (To Lean On)

by Kawaiibooker



Series: V one-shot [3]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Canon Divergence, Character Study, Gen, Pequod Headcanon, Pequod!POV, Sort of a companion piece to the V series, Spoilers for TPP, Venom Headcanon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 02:26:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6101695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kawaiibooker/pseuds/Kawaiibooker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pequod observes and learns what it means to be Big Boss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Need Somebody (To Lean On)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is kind of a character study for Venom Snake (and in extension, his relationship with one certain grouchy commander), through the eyes of Pequod. V-series setting, 1984-1985.
> 
> Heavy references to [Learning to Stand (On Our Own Two Feet)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5443106/chapters/12579500), so you should read that one first!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetaed.

If someone had told him that by the end of 1984 he'd be Big Boss’s personal pilot and close friend under the codename “Pequod”, Felix Richter would have laughed in disbelief.

After all, why would the great Big Boss be interested in some random kid from Bielefeld? Sure, his piloting wasn’t half bad – he finished training with highest honor, the best of his class – so even if he lacked experience due to his young age of 25, he made up for it with talent and devotion. It didn’t change the fact that there are a thousand hot shots like him on any larger military base. _It's sheer dumb luck, most likely._

Technically it had been the Boss’s commander, a man called Kazuhira Miller, who approached him during the operation he was flying for the FRG in Ethiopia back in 1982. They had to contract some mercs for the dirtier part of the job, considering the NATO had strict restrictions in place for international operations running under their jurisdiction. In walk Miller and his dogs of war with the pride and ferocity of wolves; by the end of the assignment, they took their reward and some of the FRG's most talented with them.

Working for a PMC was something none of them had considered and these “Diamond Dogs” were unheard of before... But Big Boss was another deal entirely. The man was larger than life, the title well-known to every soldier - it spread through each military base in hushed whispers and awed retellings of the same basic story. The details were hazy and thus subject to creative speculation, but that was part of the charm.

Felix was no exception to this. He accepted the offer and never looked back.

*

It’s difficult to penetrate the passivity Big Boss wears like a second skin, to judge him by the short but firm handshake and surprisingly soft-spoken voice the leader of Outer Heaven greets him with on their first mission.

The pilot is still trying to place him hours later, his gaze drifting to the soldier seated in the back of the chopper. The Boss is leaning with his elbows on his knees, a single blue eye locked on the distant horizon. He’s been silent and utterly calm throughout the whole flight, only the occasional blink indicating he’s not just some scarily life-like statue. If he notices Pequod’s curiosity, he doesn’t show it.

_So that’s the legendary Big Boss._

It’s a jarring contradiction to the stories Pequod has heard about him: The ones about bitter betrayal and cold-blooded murder, of enemies turned to allies because of his overpowering personality and charisma. Commander Miller had said little about the man behind the famous name, only that Naked Snake is one of a kind at what he does... That if anyone could rebuild the dream they had lost in the flames and destruction of 1975, it would be him.

It’s ironic that their current mission objective is to recover said man from captivity. Miller reportedly sacrificed his own safety and health to draw the attention from the Boss’s own rescue without hesitation. Pequod can’t help but wonder if he will one day do the same and find it in his heart to be glad about it.

*

The first time Pequod notices the _person_ behind Big Boss, he’s helping him pull Miller’s mangled body into the chopper, gripping him by his shoulders. His eyes meet the fierce protectiveness in the Boss’s expression - the implicit threat behind that intense look is clear:

 _He is_ mine _. You hurt him, I hurt you._

The pilot feels his heart clench in instant fear; his head moves automatically into a slow nod, signaling his submission and Snake’s eye softens, drifting from Pequod to the injured man they lay down carefully on the floor of the helicopter. Miller looks pale under the blood and grime, panting heavily from their strenuous escape, but he’s still conscious at least.

Sensing the wordless dismissal, Pequod rushes to the cockpit and restarts the engine, pulling up into the sky seconds later. He’s aware of the way Snake leans over his downed commander, of the quiet conversation passing between them that he doesn’t listen to and how he remains at his side, providing comfort when Miller drifts off, mumbling in his delirium.

Pequod witnesses that day what it’s like to be one of Big Boss’s, a part of his family: It means strong hands will catch you when you fall, the same ones that maim and kill and burn others a soothing pressure at your side.

*

They fall into an easy routine by the fifth mission.

The Boss calls him on his iDroid first thing in the morning and meets him at the landing zone fifteen minutes later, a cup of coffee and a paper bag in the one hand, his weapon of choice for the mission in the other.

While Pequod concentrates on taking off, Snake sits down in his customary seat and types on the iDroid, listening to some cassette or other on his treasured Walkman with a look of deep concentration on his weathered face. 

Pequod then waits for the orders that appear in clear bullet points sent from the device in Snake’s hands to his own display, and adjusts their flight path accordingly. He can hear the paper bag rustle as the man makes himself comfortable after that, drinking his coffee and eating his breakfast – which consists of an apple and a donut, of all things – either looking out the window or at the photos on the chopper’s walls with a pensive expression.

It’s one of those pictures that makes Big Boss smile for the first time in the pilot’s presence. It's only a slight upward twist of his mouth then he pins the photo amongst the growing collection with careful metal fingers. There seems to be a certain order to them, but Pequod knows better than to pry into his superior’s personal affairs.

Much later – when the mission is finished and Snake has hopped off the chopper with a nod in Pequod’s direction – he can’t help a curious glance to check the newest addition, ignoring his guilty conscience. It shows Snake and Miller only minutes after their return to Mother Base, locked in their usual intense eye contact with each other.

*

_This is bullshit._

Pequod presses his lips together tightly to prevent himself from saying the words out loud. He reads the coordinates again and points the chopper towards the requested landing zone.

It’s around two miles further from the target than the other one would be – yeah, sure, that one hasn’t been approved by the intel unit, deemed too dangerous to land on due to the rough terrain... But his UTH-66 Blackfoot is built to maneuver such close quarters, newly upgraded with a quadruple engine for exactly this kind of situation.

He sighs. _Orders are orders, but..._

“What is it?” A gruff voice sounds in his headset. The pilot tenses and checks the rearview mirror; the Boss is looking at him with a tilt to his head. He doesn’t look too pissed off – yet.

Pequod clears his throat. “Uh, it’s nothing–“

Snake’s eye narrows. “Out with it.”

“Yes, sir”, he says instinctively, gathering his courage and locking eyes with his Boss. “It’s just that the LZ you chose will limit your resources unnecessarily, Boss. There’s a better one further up the mountain range, closer to the mission area. They won’t expect us; it’ll save time. I can get us in undetected, too...” He trails off uncertainly. The other’s expression doesn’t change, his scrutinizing gaze still on the pilot.

The seconds tick by unbearably slow. Pequod breaks out into cold sweat, a constant stream of _Scheiße, scheiße, scheiße!_ running through his mind–

“This one?” A notification plops up on his display, the landing zone that used to be marked red now a neutral white. Swallowing anxiously, the pilot nods. “Alright. I’ll trust you on this one.”

Pequod releases the breath he’s been holding and straightens up from his hunched position. Snake is relaying the change of plans over the radio, presumably meeting with protest from the team back at Mother Base. He cuts off whatever they are saying: “Pequod knows what’s at stake. He’ll do his job.”

The pilot smirks to himself at those words, Snake' approval lifting his spirits considerably. _There's nothing better than a good challenge._

They’ll be arriving soon, the mountain line appearing on the horizon.

*

Venom Snake rarely talks, less so unprompted. This is the reason Pequod almost jumps out of his skin when – “Want one?” – his deep voice is suddenly right beside his ear.

The pilot has to actively counteract his soldier’s instinct to hit the man in the face, taken completely by surprise. Instead he looks at him with wide eyes and a white-knuckled grip on the chopper’s cyclic, lowering his gaze to the offered food in the Boss’s hand.

It’s a donut glazed with rainbow sprinkles; Pequod recognizes it to be the same kind Snake always eats for breakfast, the only guilty pleasure the man allows himself as far as he can tell.

“Uh... No, Boss.” The pilot winces at the clipped tone of his own voice, adding a small “Thank you” to be polite. _Smooth, Felix._

Venom shrugs in response as he bites into the pastry himself, walking back to his usual spot with loud steps. Pequod knows it’s for his sake and tries not to show his embarrassment on his face.

He swears to himself that next time, he will take the damn donut.

*

Being the personal pilot of _the_ Big Boss is not only a great honor but a burden, too. There’s the isolation from everyday life on Mother Base due to his long absences, the extensive work load and regular conflict situations he has to face.

Adding the fact that he is on the front lines for the most improbable missions – those that gain legendary status instantly and demand a trusty source of information outside of the leading ranks – leads the other Diamond Dogs treatment of Pequod to be a mix of awe, jealousy and suspicion. After all, couldn’t such a close confidante to their Boss rat out the soldiers he heard gossiping or saw slacking off?

Pequod takes all of this in stride, deciding early on that the work he’s doing for Snake is worthy of his pride and dedication regardless of the difficult position it puts him in with the other recruits. Although the man never asked him to, he makes a point of keeping a stubborn silence over the details of operations and the conversations he overhears in the cockpit.

This is hardest to maintain concerning a certain female sniper. The worsening conditions of Quiet’s presence at Mother Base – the toxic rumors and harsh glares being the most harmless among them – make him grit his teeth to not jump to her defense. Indeed, Pequod is convinced that Quiet albeit being weird and utterly silent, of course, means well – most of all towards Big Boss.

He couldn’t explain what benefit she draws from indulging Snake otherwise; currently she’s playing the board game Risk with the man to pass the time until their arrival to Central Africa. They started the round two hours ago and have been going at it without a sound ever since, except for the Boss’s muttered curses. Quiet restricts herself to humming a soft tune when it’s the other’s turn. It's familiar and yet, it takes Pequod a solid hour to figure out it’s the _Jeopardy!_ theme song.

 _If a look could burn through carton_ , the pilot thinks, gleefully observing that Snake is losing despite his narrow-eyed concentration – not by much, but still. The smug grin on Quiet’s face shows that she’s also aware of this. She's merely biding her time now, toying with the little plastic soldiers while the other agonizes over the best way to save his fictional troups.

Pequod shakes his head to himself. _Whatever it is that woman wants, it’s not Big Boss’s death._

Now it’s only a matter of making Commander Miller and the rest of the Diamond Dogs realize it, too.

*

Snake loves animals.

It takes a while for Pequod to figure it out but eventually he connects the dots: Between the extensive rides on D-Horse, DD’s constant mission support and their frequent visits to the Animal Conservation Platform, the man is surrounded by them daily and never seems to tire of it.

Especially Outer Heaven’s zoo has a calming effect on the Boss. Pequod doesn’t know what he does in those hours between the initial drop and the subsequent pick-up; but Snake’s body language is always indefinitely more at ease when he pulls himself into the chopper after it.

It gets to a point where the pilot takes him there automatically when he senses the soldier could use the break. Most times, Snake comments that there is still business to take care of and Pequod complies, correcting their destination – but sometimes, the pilot’s deliberate decision is only acknowledged with mild surprise on his features before the sight of the distant green enclosures puts a gentle smile there instead.

It’s another piece of the puzzle that is the person behind the legend, a trait that makes him much more human. Quietly, Pequod wonders how Snake can stand it all – the violence, the constant pressure, the star-struck stares that follow his every step – when it’s only in those candid moments by himself that he looks truly content. Is it his fate to never be able to escape war, despite craving peace?

_If Venom Snake had a choice, would he still want to be Big Boss?_

*

Blood curls in the water like mist, twirling lazily before it’s washed down the chopper’s exterior in small rivulets.

Pequod’s mind is carefully blank as he removes red hand and paw prints from the metal walls, having already moped off the small puddles on the floor.

“Hey, Pequod – need a hand?” Stone Mastodon says, coming closer with hesitant steps. They’re tentative friends, the pilot and the soldier, given they sleep in the same bunk bed on the rare nights Pequod gets some time off on Mother Base.

Still, he declines the offer with a shake of his head and a smile that doesn’t feel quite right on his face. “I’m almost done anyways. See ya in the mess hall, Mastodon.”

The soldier nods with sympathy in his eyes, returning to his post again. Clean-up isn’t solely the pilot’s duty, but Pequod likes to handle it that way. It reminds him of something he would otherwise forget:

That Big Boss is not invincible. That he hurts and bleeds like every other man, that he makes _mistakes_.

That when everything else fails, it’s _his_ job to make sure he comes home, breathing and alive.

*

In a way, Pequod gets to know Big Boss more intimately than anyone else.

While the other Diamond Dogs and even the commanders see him on Mother Base being his calm and collected self, the pilot is there when he’s anything but:

When Snake is bruised and bloody and _shaking_ with adrenaline after a close call and only dares to breathe when the ground is miles away and the wide ocean spreads endless around them...

When he drags his hands down his face roughly the moment the door of the chopper closes, looking lost and helpless in the wake of more infected and dying Diamond Dogs...

These moments only last a few seconds each – then he inhales deeply, squares his shoulders and returns to the mask, the persona that is Big Boss.

If it were anyone else, Pequod would offer words of comfort or a steadying touch to slumped shoulders. But after months of spending the same four to five hour time frame together, he knows Venom Snake – and opts to stay silent instead, providing him with the secure and _controllable_ environment he needs. On most days, the pilot is rewarded with the sound of soft snores for the rest of the flight, Snake’s stress-lined face slack and oddly innocent in his slumber.

If Pequod slows down the chopper to ensure the man rests in full, it’s nobody’s business but his own.

*

_How could I have been so blind?_

It’s a question Pequod asks himself almost constantly since the news about Big Boss’s – no, _their_ Boss’s, Venom Snake's – real identity spread like wildfire through Outer Heaven.

Like most of the recruits, the pilot feels deeply unsettled – not because he doubts his leader’s qualities or intentions, but because of the tension that tore through the commanding ranks only hours after the fact. He sleeps in restless fits that night, worrying for the man he calls a friend in his mind.

Pequod doesn’t know what to expect when Snake steps into the chopper the next day, a gnawing feeling in his gut telling him something has changed. Although he goes through the same motions as any day – the greeting nod, typing on the iDroid, the look out the window – the difference is shocking in its subtlety: No donut, no music to pass the time–

Their eyes meet over the rearview mirror. There’s an emptiness in the depths of that pale blue that chills Pequod to the bone.

_If Big Boss is gone... What is left of Venom Snake?_

The thought comes unbidden to his mind and refuses to leave.

*

They fly more missions than ever before, barely spending time on Mother Base between day-long operations. Pequod falls into bed at midnight, gets up at 6 am sharp and then they’re off again. Venom dismantles another PMC, secures more fossil resources and hunts down the next nuke all in the span of two weeks, working restlessly and, Pequod notes, with some measure of desperation.

Perhaps the biggest weight on Snake’s shoulders is Miller’s biting remarks and hostile glares, though. The man who used to bring a smile to that rugged face lashes out at him every chance he gets, over the radio and sometimes even in public – completely disregarding their respective positions.

In those cases, Pequod has to clench his fists to not break rank and do something _very_ stupid; he tries burning a hole through the back of his commander’s head with his eyes instead, silently willing him to understand it's not Venom who's at fault for this fucked up situation.

It’s sickening to watch, but he’s powerless to do anything about it. After all Venom is still the Boss and Pequod only his pilot.

*

Pequod forgets all about staying silent when Venom stumbles into the chopper a week later, face paper white.

“Everything alright, Boss?” The pilot is half out of his seat before Snake waves him away vaguely, ordering him to set off with that dead voice Pequod's really starting to hate. Even DD keeps his distance with a helpless whine and lays down dejectedly, a soulful eye trained on his master. Concentrating on his task begrudgingly, Pequod takes them into the air, running through the motions without any complications after more than a year of almost-daily missions.

He's watching the lights of Mother Base fade into the distance when he hears the sounds of harsh gasps behind him. A quick glance into the rearview mirror, then the pilot decides to throw caution – and more importantly, his orders – out the window, setting the chopper into auto-hover before he rushes to Venom’s side.

The man is hunched over, holding his head so tightly his fingers visibly dig into his scalp. His body language screams pain – shoulders hunched, jaw clenched, his eye pinched shut – although no physical injury is evident–

If his short career in the military has taught Pequod anything, it’s that the invisible wounds are the most vicious; they bleed and fester unchecked until the victim breaks. In the case of Venom Snake, the inevitable crash took weeks of stress and pressure chipping away at his resolve, at the very essence of his mind...

“Boss, _stop_ –“ Knowing his words will fall on deaf ears, Pequod doesn’t hesitate to touch Venom, forcibly separating his grip on his head with a grunt before he frames his deathly pale face with his own, steady hands. “You gotta stay with me, alright? Whatever it is you’re seeing, _it’s not real_. Fight it, Snake, c’mon–“

A single eye snaps open – and the pilot is trapped by the intense gaze of Big Boss. The change is so sudden that he feels himself flinch, breaking physical contact subconsciously. Although the other is still heaving, he seems completely in control, wiping away the cold sweat on his brow before he cocks one eyebrow. The movement is inherently self-confident, arrogant and so, so _wrong_.

“Carry on with your orders.” _That_ voice again, the one that sounds hollow and cold compared to the subtle warmth and passion _his_ Boss's used to carry.

Still, the soldier in Pequod snaps to attention at the authority in the words, returning to the front seat in a daze. For a desperate moment, he thinks about calling–

“And turn off the transmitter. I’m doing this one solo.”

Left with no other choice, the pilot cuts the connection to Mother Base, heart clenching with dread; and for the first time since that very first mission, Pequod fears Big Boss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this back in December when I was finishing LTS and it's been sitting in my drafts ever since. The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced Pequod would be the first to notice something isn't quite right with Big Boss...
> 
> Anyways, this fic will serve as a bridge between the parts of the main series. Considering the V series is told from either Kaz's or V's POV, there's a lot I can't fit in there - thus Pequod's POV will help to contextualize their relationship a bit better imo.


End file.
